


A Streaked Slate

by Eoraptor



Series: A Blonde Moment [4]
Category: Kim Possible (Cartoon)
Genre: Angst, Clean slate, F/F, Memory Loss, ron loses his pants, season 4, shego loses more
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-06
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2020-11-26 08:22:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20927102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eoraptor/pseuds/Eoraptor
Summary: Part 4 of "A Blonde Moment." Kim has lost her memory. Shego is on a rampage, at least until she runs out of steam and really begins to consider just all that Kim has forgotten.





	A Streaked Slate

**Author's Note:**

> Rated T. Kim Possible 2002-2007, 2019 Walt Disney Animation. This is a fan work, not for profit, and I claim no ownership except of the concept.

“At Last! Ze nanotronium ist mine!” Professor Dementor stood atop his gravity sled, holding a glowing green test tube aloft triumphantly. “With Zis compound und mine genius, I shall finally complete my-,”

Whatever the diminutive German was going to say was cut off as a purple blur shot past him, snatching the vial from his hand.

He felt the hover-platform sag at the rear as the blur was revealed to be Kim Possible landing on the tail end of the craft. A moment later, the front dipped as well and the mad scientist turned to see Shego standing on the nose, hands perched imperiously on her hips.

“Oh, great,” he muttered, palming his masked face over his helmet. “And vere ist zee boy who is constantly losink hiz pants?”

“I do _not_ always lose my pants!” Ron complained loudly. He was tangled up in a knot dangling off the rear of the speeding platform, “Just having a little grapple trouble!”

“So now there are being three of you! So not fair!” Dementor whined, clenching his suddenly empty hand, “Henchmen, get zhem!”

“Three?” Shego complained, easily batting away one grey-suited hench who charged at her. “I’m just along for the ride, you interrupted date night!”

Unfortunately she batted the henchman right into the controls and sent the craft nose-down.

Two more henchmen attacked Kim, and she went tumbling with them up the tilted back end of the hover-platform, losing her grip on the vial of stolen super-sicence-stuff

Ron managed to clamber his way up over the side of the skiff, and found the dropped vial underneath the control seat, “KP, Found it!”

Dementor bent over the control chair with a sneer, reaching a yellow hand for the vial as he sneered dangerously, “Give me zhat nanotronium!”

“Rufus!” Ron whined, scurrying backwards, “Corckscrew!”

The bald rodent appeared from Ron’s pants and scurried up the dashboard. A moment later, he leaned on one of the levers and kicked at the other. The platform quickly began spinning, hurling everyone aboard about and making a whistling sound as it was pressed into a maneuver it was never intended to undergo.

Fighting the vertigo, Kim grabbed Ron and Rufus and dove free of the whirling platform, angling to the nearest high-rise below them.

At the other end of the plummeting craft, Shego kicked a hench off of her and allowed centrifugal force to carry her free of the skiff as well.

Standing up and dusting himself off, Ron realized he still had control of the stolen vial, “Ah booyah!”

“Nice work, Ron,” Kim grinned in surprise, accepting the vial from him.

“And best of all, I didn’t even lose my-,” the blond boy looked down and grumped, reassessing that statement. “Ah man! What is the deal!?”

Right next to them there came a thump, and Shego landed from her own plummet, tucking and rolling to shed momentum. She came to a stop holding up the pair of pants, still tangled in black grappling line, “Lose something?”

“Awww man!” Ron whined again, seizing the garment from his ex-girlfriend’s girlfriend and assessing them, “Wrinkles!”

“Yes, _I_ did lose something,” Kim giggled, kissing Shego on the cheek, “Gonna need to get you something for the next time we fall off a hover-platform.”

“And him a better belt,” Shego huffed, looking at the boy in his boxer shorts, “Seriously, they came off _over_ the boots?”

“Hush,” Kim playfully admonished, “We can discuss it when we get home from our date.”

“But won’t Shego be jealous if we-,”

Kim palmed her face, trying to stifle a giggle. She had feared it was going to get awkward, trying to balance her ex-boyfriend and her current girlfriend… but leave it to Ron to defuse the situation perfectly.

** _ -SLATE- _ **

** _ _ **

“Come on girl, don’t you think it’s a big?” Monique sat across from Kim in a booth at the Middleton Galleria food court. “You’re still so tight with Ron even after dumping him for Shego?!”

“So not a dump!” Kim complained with a wave of her hands, “It was mutual… I’m with Shego, Ron’s with Yori, it all worked out!”

“And you don’t think that’s a little weird, boo?”

“Well, I did get him a gift for what was supposed to be our half-iversary.” Kim held up a brown leather belt.

“The pants thing?”

“The pants thing!” Kim snapped the belt with surprising authority, only for it to recoil, “Titanium reinforced! Wade looked it up.”

“Great gift. So what are you getting Shego to cover for that?”

“Uuuuuh…”

She was saved by the bell when Ron walked up, “Hey KP! You ready for mission Pediatric Funsquad?!”

“Say what?” Monique tilted her head at the non-sequitur.

“The Kids in my mom’s hospital,” Kim shrugged with a blush gracing her cheeks, “I guess I’m sorta famous to them?”

Beside them, Ron produced a pink balloon from his pocket, rapidly inflating the long tube and tying it into a series of knots. The moment he let go, the balloon gave a wheeze that sounded suspiciously fart-like and shot off across the food court, looping around Monique twice before returning to land with a wet flop, deflated, on Ron ‘s head.

“Okay, ya know what? Any clown can do balloon animals! What I do defies description!” he asserted with a huff, retrieving the deflated party favor.

“True dat…” Monique looked away, smirking.

“Oh, Ron, before we go, I- uh I got you a little present!” Kim blushed again and reached down, picking up the belt.

“For what?” Ron looked around confusedly, wondering what he had done lately that constituted gift-giving.

“Well, today was supposed to be our half-iversary!” Kim giggled, standing to hug him awkwardly, “And it was custom, so I couldn’t just return it when we stopped, you know…”

“That’s great!” Ron enthused, and then scratched the top of his head, “What’s a ‘half-iversary?”

“Dating,” Monique huffed, “You know, six months… half a year?”

Kim produced the gift awkwardly.

“Oh cool! Look at that! It’s a, you know… It’s a belt!” Ron suddenly felt out of his depth and awkward, being reminded of what had gone between he and his best friend for the past few months, only to suddenly end by mutual decree.

“I figured it would help you with your pants problem,” the redhead whispered conspiratorially.

“KP I do not have a-,” Ron complained, righteously indignant.

And at that moment a passing janitorial cart snagged on his left hip pocket with a rip, completely disregarding his declaration.

“Ah, good gift, hehehe!” he blushed, rapidly seizing the belt and then turning to chase after his pants, “Thanks KP! Hey, I need those back! Hey!”

** _ -SLATE- _ **

“Boss,” Steve looked askance at Professor Dementor, “Why are you still in your pajamas?”

“I fell asleep on zee couch last night watching that show I like.” The German scientist grumbled.

“Ballroom with B Actors?” Steve tilted his head curiously, “and you fell asleep! Really!?”

The scientist huffed, knowing he was being teased by the underling. Ignoring it, he turned, pulling on his military coat over his pajama top, “Und I awoke having dreamt of my greatest scheme ever! Zhis plan is foolproof!”

“With… pajamas?” the henchman shrugged uncertainly, looking around himself. “And trashing the lair?”

“Und then I put it on zee back of a magazine so I wouldn’t forget, _and now I can’t be finding it_!” Dementor rose to a point of excitement as he gestured around the shambles that was his alpine lair.

“Oh!” Steve suddenly enthused, reaching into his satchel. A moment later he produced the villain’s weekly rag and looked at it. “I took that to the hover-car shop! Erm…. ‘Hurk, Yoink, Sputter, Schnitzel’.”

“‘Hurk, Yoink, Sputter, Schnitzel’?” Dementor seized the magazine and eyed the cover, defeat blossoming under his helmet, “I could swear I was being awake! Zhis makes no sense!!!”

“Really?” Steve thought it made perfect sense… but wasn’t sure what exactly it was referencing.

“Doctor Langford, This is quite a breakthrough in memory research,” The TV droned on in the corner, still on after running all night long.

On the screen, a nebbish looking older scientist held up a tall black helmet festooned with silver tubes and green circuitry, “I’ve spent five years working with the Middleton Community Hospital working to develop the M.R.M. The Memory Recovery Machine, if you will. People suffering from amnesia haven’t really lost their memories, persay; they’ve lost _access_ to them.”

“The M.R.M. reestablishes that mental link, if you will.” By way of demonstration, Langford put the oblong helmet on his head, whereupon it instantly lit up. The lights were accompanied by a series of beeps and clicks as it worked.

The television reporter looked both astonished and concerned as she watched this all go on before her and the camera, “Doctor Langford, are you alright?”

“No! I left the stove on! Gotta go!” the absent-minded doctor suddenly darted off the screen.

Demntor watched the scene cut back to the station, a grin slowly growing beneath his helmet, “Steve! With zhat machine, I could be rememberink mine foolproof plan! _Und!_ Just to be safe, from now on, I shall be recordink all of mine ideas on zhis tape recorder!”

Steve watched him produce a micro-casette recorder and looked on with some dubiousness. Geniuses were weird.

Pressing the bright red record button, the Professor began, “Go to Hospital; steal machine; remember fool-proof plan!”

“Oh no,” Steve sighed morosely, “You’re going to turn into one of those ‘records everything’ type of bosses… so lame.”

“Note to zelf,” Dementor scowled and flipped the record button again, looking at the henchman, “Fire Steve.”

** _ -SLATE- _ **

“Remember, we’re here to cheer,” Kim admonished her boisterous best friend as they stood outside of the pediatric intensive care unit, “but not _too much_ cheer.”

“Kim,” Ron pointed out, huffing, “Not too much cheer is your girlfriend’s department, not the Ron-man’s. Besides, laughter is the best medicine! Unless, you know, you’ve got an acute case of the giggles; then the cure is worse than the condition.”

“Well Shego doesn’t care for hospitals.” Kim huffed, remembering arguing with her other partner about the chance to help brighten the day of sick kids.

The two of them agreed to disagree on things, and Ron opened the doors to the PICU.

“RUFUS!!!” the assembled children enthused as the doors opened, all waving ardently.

The aforementioned rodent popped his head out of Ron’s cargos and cheered right back, “Allright!”

** _ -SLATE- _ **

Dementor paused in a corridor, pressing his cassette recorder to his ear, “Go to Hospital; steal machine; remember fool-proof plan!”

“Yes,” he grinned maniacally, feeling his plan coming together as they stalked down the hallway and he listened to the recorder. “’Note to self; Fire Steve’. Doh, I knew there was something I was forgettink!”

Rolling his eyes, Steve adjusted the hood of his uniform, “Forget the tape, Prof, here’s the lab!”

They slipped inside of the scientific research facility in the hospital with no resistance.

A moment’s search turned up the big black helmet, which Steve grabbed and held aloft, hoping to make his employer forget the tape. “Okay! Got the M.R.M.!”

“Now we-, we… Oh…” Dementor sighed, knocking on the side of his helmet. After a moment, he moved to consult his recorder, only for Steve to shove the helmet into his hands awkwardly.

“Jah! We steal it, we use it, and then we fire Steve!” the diminutive German enthused, holding it aloft. “In ein moment, I will recall my most evil, insidious, foolproof plannings! The world shall be mine hahahaha!”

“What are you doing?!” Doctor Langford appeared at the office door, frowning concernedly at the henchmen and evil scientist in his lab. “Who are you?!”

“I am ein interested party,” Dementor tightened his grip on the helmet, “Who ist about to take your research to ein new level!”

Langford spun to a phone hanging on the wall and picked up the receiver, “Hello, security?!”

The phone exploded in his hand with a well-aimed blast from Steve’s power-pole.

“Drat,” Dementor scowled, listening to his tape, “I didn’t have un recording for dis eventuality!”

** _ -SLATE- _ **

“Uh… just be careful,” Kim looked askance at her partners in crime-fighting and their latest scheme, “Don’t break anything?”

“Relax, KP,” Ron assured, hand-waving to his heterocephalus lifemate, “Rufus is a professional!”

Before them, the naked molerat sported a crash helmet and goggles. He was suspended in the pocketed cup of a very large sling-shot, which in-turn was attached to two of the hospital beds and stretched taut. From the cup led a leather thong, which was firmly planted under Ron’s right foot.

Ron grinned and lifted his foot, causing the thong to snap away with a twang and Rufus to go catapulting into the air with a cheer and a double backflip. He bounced off of a box of cotton wadding on a counter, executed another backflip, and landed on the foot of one of the sick children’s beds, having covered thirty feet and raising his tiny arms in triumph, “Ta dah!!!!”

A split second later, the wall of the PICU exploded inwards.

“Uh, did Rufus do that?” Ron looked uncertainly to the caved-in wall next to the molerat.

“No!” Kim grabbed Ron’s arm and pointed him at the gaping rupture, “Dementor!”

“You are being too late!” Dementor enthused. Then his face faltered, realizing he couldn’t remember the next step in the plan. Frowning and holding up his pocket recorder, he hit play.

The tinny sounding recording echoed through the stunned silence, “Soon world domination vill be mine! Once I use the M.R.M. to remember my moist amazink fool-proof plan!”

“Uh… Villainy on tape?” Kim looked askance at the pint-sized scientist.

“Yeah, he’s recording all his ramblings now.”

“Why wasn’t I told that was an available option?!” Ron whined as he realized how many really good ideas and funny one-liners he had lost by forgetting them.

“Vhat,” Dementor jeered and glared at the teen boy, “You are needing ein reminder to lose your pants and be emasculated by your ex-girlfriend and her new trollop?!”

“One of those problems has been taken care of,” Kim glared daggers and sprung through the opening in the wall, “Wait, that didn’t come out right!”

The redhead tackled the throng of henchmen in the small office, attempting to push her way past them. Ron sprung up and over the pile in a rare display of monkey kung-fu prowess and tackled Dementor, knocking the memory helmet from his grasp with a ninja cry.

Dementor and the blonde fumbled back and forth for control of the helmet, grunting and jerking at the shiny black head gear. Kim, not aware of what was going on behind her, flung the lead henchperson Steve into an opening in the scrum, trying to clear out some room.

Steve impacting the flailing mad scientist and the sidekick with a grunt, and again the M.R.M went flying. It smacked into a nearby wall with a thunk and dropped to the floor, the battery which powered it popping out and sliding across the floor.

“I didn’t do it!” Ron howled as he looked at the chaos that had come of his struggles. He flung an accusatory finger at Professor Dementor, “He broke it!”

“It is not being broken, buffoon,” the mad German seized the helmet and the cartridge and stepped back out of grabbing distance, “Zee battery is just coming out, see?!”

“That is not a battery!” Doctor Langford indignantly corrected as he tried to get the device back, “It’s a para-pulsar power cell!”

“You are saying tomayto, I am saying tomahto!” Dementor screwed the power pack back into a hatch on the side of the slightly scuffed helmet, “Ha, see!? I am fixing it!”

The helmet began to sputter and vibrate ominously in his grasp, a high pitched squeal beginning to hum out from it electronic components.

“Ah!” Dementor squeaked, looking with fright on what he had wrought, “What is happening?!”

“You didn’t fix it, you-,!” Langford chastised, watching his beloved device start to jump around in the professor’s grasp of its own accord. “Be careful, it’s going to-,!”

Kim, sensing impending doom, swung into action. She grabbed the whirring black helmet out of Dementors grasp. Turning and looking around, she made a beeline in the first open direction she saw, angling towards a window to get the now-dangerous device out of the area and away from everyone involved, especially the children in the adjoining pediatric intensive care unit.

Unfortunately, everyone’s luck runs out sometime, and today was that day for Kim Possible. She made it about four steps away and was just beginning to leap for the window when there was a tremendous thunderclap of released energies. That was followed a split-second later by a minor explosion as the M.R.M self-destructed in her grasp, leaving her flopping back to the floor like a stunned fish.

In her grasp lay the smoking, shattered remains of the Memory Recovery Machine; now little more than a head-band of scorched green circuitry and dangling silver tubes.

Dementor, at a loss for words in this situation, fast-forwarded his little tape recorder and then pressed play, “Oh Phah! Foiled again!”

“Kim!?” Ron stood, looking at something he had never seen before… a defeated Kim Possible “Kim are you alright?!”

“Kim… Kim who?” She looked back with a befuddled stare, standing up uncertainly.

“Possible!” Ron called back, a growing sense of dread in his tummy.

“Who is?” the redhead scratched at her scalp in confusion.

“You are!” he encouraged. “Kim Possible!”

“That _so_ doesn’t sound like a name,” the teen shook her head.

“Oh no!” Doctor Langford rushed over, flashing a light in the redhead’s eyes, “Her memory’s been erased!”

“WHAT?!” Ron looked at the doctor, “HOW?!”

“With the para-pulsar power cell in backwards,” Langford began morosely, “The M.R.M… reversed the process.”

“Sure!” the german professor barked, “Ist easy to be placing blame when you weren’t the one trying to fix it!”

“But,” He continued at a moment, a gleam coming to his beady eyes beneath his helmet, “Miss Possible has been forgetting everything? Like… how to foil crime! Ha! So long Kim Possible, Farewell, Auf Wiedersehen and _Goodbye_!”

With that, Professor Dementor and his henchmen piled out the window Kim had been originally aiming for, scurrying like rats from a sinking ship and cheering all the way at their apparent and inadvertant victory.

“So you mean,” Ron began uncertainly, ignoring the fleeing villains in favour of studying the vapid expression on his best friend’s face, “she doesn’t remember _anything?”_

“Not a thing,” Doctor Langford stroked his chin, considering the redhead who kept looking expectantly between the two men, “She has complete amnesia!”

** _ -SLATE- _ **

“I’m sure that between the two of us,” Doctor James Possible began, looking at his perplexed daughter, and then to his beloved wife whist in the kitchen of the Possible residence, that we’ll be able to get Kimmie-cub’s memory back, right hun?”

Beside him, Anne Possible hung up the phone she’d been talking on and pursed her lips uncertainly, “That was Doctor Langford, he said it could take months to rebuild the M.R.M.”

“Oh,” James began uncertainly, and then resumed his charge, “Well Anything is possible for a Possible!”

“That’s a name!” the confused teen seated at the kitchen table cheered.

“Well,” Anne shined a light into Kim’s eyes, checking their reaction, “At least she remembers how to speak and walk.”

Kim rose from her chair, stumbling forward and chasing the light in her eyes, “Oooh shiny! Light bright!”

Ron, speaking around a mouth full of crunchy-puffs he had borrowed from the Possible’s kitchen cupboard, tried to sound hopeful as he stuffed his face, “Well, that’s progress. Her memory’s going to come back, isn’t it?”

“We have the will,” James began, cheering up, “We have the skill! Right hun?”

“Well, the good news is Kim’s memories are intact, she just can’t access them.” Anne supplied uncertainly.

“See, told ya!” Jim Possible enthused to his twin brother Tim, “total cerebral wipe!”

“Well if Kim re-experiences things,” Anne began more hopefully, “That might help her memories return.”

“Wow,” Tim awed at his brother, “Total neural reset!”

“I’ll round up all the family photos, home movies, and educational materials I can find,” James began planning as he and his wife move to exit the kitchen and begin.

They stopped dead when they saw their daughter, standing astonished but merry in the kitchen doorway. She was now clothed, in just a few seconds time, in a frilly pink apron. On her feet were a pair of swim fins, and grasped in each hand was a paint roller from the junk drawer. Her eyes were hidden behind a set of safety blast goggles, and the boys were rather helpfully placing a blender atop her head, each short boy perched on a chair to be able to reach.

“Boys!” the Possible Parents admonished sharply.

“We’re playing dress-up! The redhead cheerfully proclaimed.

“And we’re playing GROUNDED.” James almost snapped out the words at the way his daughter had been taken advantage of in just minutes.

“Kimmie?!” the front door to the Possible house burst open and Shego ran in, half out of breath as she raced forward, “I heard there was an explosion and this time you didn’t duck! What the hell?!”

The tall villainess stopped in the hallway leading to the kitchen and frowned. There stood her girlfriend, decked out like some sort of deranged parts-bin Barbie doll. “Wha…?”

“See?” the teenager pointed at the woman standing there in a green catsuit that stretched from neck to toe, as though vindicated, “Dress up!”

Narrowing her eyes, she saw Ron hiding in the back of the kitchen with a box of cereal. “Stoppable, I left her in your care… Care to explain?!”

Ron swallowed nervously, because he was certain Shego’s eyes were glowing even from thirty feet away. “Ummmmm…”

** _ -SLATE- _ **

An hour later, Sheshona Elsbeth Go had been filled in on the catastrophe at the hospital; how Kim had, as usual, tried to save the day and a dozen sick children from certain doom, and had taken the blast of the M.R.M helmet right in the face in the process. She felt a wave of emotions roll her, churning her stomach and swirling her mind until they crystalized into one form.

Irritation.

If only she had been there, she could have just melted the damned helmet before it exploded. Or she could have killed Dementor where he stood with the audacity to attack a hospital full of sick kids. Or hell, _she_ could have grabbed the gewgaw and taken a face full of energy and exploding helmet. Her powers would have saved her, right?

She was irritated with herself, because she’d refused to go to the hospital and refused to explain why, and that one bout if selfishness had caused… this. She couldn’t blame Ron… the Doofus was doing exactly what he always did, which was back up Kim no matter what. And when Kim said jump, he didn’t even ask how high. It just as easily could have happened to her. She too would have struggled to get the helmet away from Dementor first and foremost. Not because she intended to save the day, of course, but because, with Drakken gone, and the world knowing she was now dating Kim Possible, she no longer had that many outlets for her criminal tendencies, and beating up a vertically challenged dork was one of them.

She looked on the vapid but cheerful expression on her girlfriend’s face with undisguised concern, her usual snark melting away as the teen sat in the living room recliner, not even glancing at her; seemingly entranced by birds outside the front window fighting over a spray of loose seeds. “So… she doesn’t remember… anything?”

“Nope,” Anne shook her head softly, chewing her lip, “We should be happy that it wasn’t a total mind wipe, she at least knows how to walk and talk.”

“But nothing other than that,” Ron’s usual indefatigable optimism in the redhead was clearly shaken as he fiddled with his shoelaces, unwilling to look at Shego for fear she would unleash on him like he totally deserved. “She won’t even answer to her own name half the time.”

The older woman sighed, trying to grab hold of the situation by any means available. “Alright, I’m going to go out… see what I can do about tracking down Dementor. And give him the ass-kicking of a life time. Breaking into a hospital and blowing out a wall into a ward of sick kids… I swear, that is worse than when Drakken and Ed stole that kid’s wheel chair.”

“Didn’t you go along with that plan?” Ron pointed out, only afterwards realizing he might be taking his life in his own hands by bringing it up.

“Reluctantly,” the villains growled, gritting her teeth. “Point is… he hurt my bubblebutt. The gloves are off now. Buzz the phone in my jet if Kimmie gets worse.”

With that, Shego stormed out of the Possible house, grabbing Lunabat on her way and stuffing him into the cockpit next to the artificial horizon gauge. She needed all the help she was going to get on this case, and Kimmie needed Pandaroo more than ever, not Shego’s chiropteran moth plushie. The pair of felt creatures would just have to be separated until this was all sorted out.

She also didn’t want to admit to herself that, if she spent one more second in that house, looking at the dumbounded and vapid expression on Kim’s face, she was going to vomit from the swirl of emotions inside her. The teenager needed a doctor right now, and Sheshona couldn’t be that. Best that she do something to help somewhere where she didn’t have to see her Princess sick, or she might well murder someone… Well someone other than Dementor anyway.

“I, um,” James began after his daughter’s partner stormed out of the house, hearing a combat jet outside squeal down the street and leap into the sky, “I’ve compressed a lifetime of video for highspeed viewing. This should help jumpstart things.”

On the sixty inch wide display before them, a grid of scenes began playing. There were nine, arranged three-by-three across the screen, and playing in rapid succession. The sequences changed frequently. There was Kim in her cowboy costume when she was six, with Ron the ballerina by her side. There was Kim and James at a Rocket Boosters meeting. Kim singing in her first grade choir and struggling to hit the high notes. Kim with Nana in Florida the time Shego and Drakken had hacked her hearing aids.

The teen sat forward with interest, watching the rapidly unfolding scenes. A smile blossomed on her face as she recognized that this person on the big screen was, more often than not, her.

A few moments later, the entire screen was filled with bombastic music. A title card popped up, announcing the name of a seventies-era television show beginning in fast forward.

“Hey,” Ron looked up, recognition dawning on his face, “Isn’t that…?”

“Captain Constellation!” James enthused.

“Rockets Are Go!” they both cheered as the show began in quick-review mode.

Anne frowned at that, “Didn’t Kimmie hate that show?

“Well…” James began, a coy grin on his face, “She did… the first time around.”

The elder redhead rolled her eyes at that and scoffed, but let it go. She was going to have to pick her battles in this, and figured she should save the war for something more dangerous that a tv show.

** _ -SLATE- _ **

As Shego flew her jet towards Europe, easing the throttle forward into cruise velocity, she sighed. If this had happened a few months ago, what would she be doing right now? Certainly not piloting her fighter plane forward on a mission of revenge. Not chewing her well-manicured nails in a tizzy over what had become of someone else.

Would she be celebrating on a beach; would she be toasting her good fortunes?

Would she be robbing every bank she came across, secure in the knowledge that the one woman in the world that could stop her now had the mental capacity of a two year old?

Her hand tightened on the stick and she growled. She might not be able to accept a lot of things about herself, or about her new life… but one thing that she did accept was this: She loved Kimmie, and Kimmie loved her.

And anyone who would hurt Kim Possible now had a lifespan measured in the amount of time it would take to get landing permission. She would explain herself on the murder wrap later.

“Hell,” the mercenary considered as she watch the Atlantic ocean spread out before her, sloshing by underneath the jet at mach 2, “Maybe this will all be for the best; and Bubblebutt won’t even remember that I’m not allowed to leave the country, or to get into fist fights that aren’t over saving the world, or that I am absolutely not allowed to murder people who deserve it.”

She knew that her lovely little bleach-blonde beloved was in the best of hands, her rocket-scientist father and her brain-surgeon mother. Hell, the buffoon was there, and if there was one thing Shego trusted him for other than to lose his pants at inopportune moments, it was that he would fight to protect Kimmie almost as fiercely as she would.

Almost.

“Now, to find a certain vertically challenged teutonic twit and pound him down into a bowl of mush inside that stupid little helmet of his.”

**Author's Note:**

> AN: Welcome to “A Streaked Slate,” the Blonde Moment continuum’s answer to the fourth season episode “Clean Slate.” Obviously, with no Drakken, and Shego not out robbing banks any more, there have to be some changes, and I hope you like them. Remember, if you enjoyed this story, please leave a review on fanfictionDOTnet or Archive of Our Own, and feel free to recommend my story to others!


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